


Iron and Steel

by RoxieCat



Series: Iron and Steel [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-06 14:52:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10337026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoxieCat/pseuds/RoxieCat
Summary: A fanfic for Fallout 4 featuring Maxson and f!Sole. Picks up 4 months after Sole has opted to work with the Brotherhood of Steel and taken down The Institute. F!Sole's name is Gwen.Gwen has returned to the Prydwen and during a sleepless night, has a curiously personal moment with Elder Maxson.





	1. Storms

It had been 4 months. 4 months since the Institute fell. No, not fell, burned. 4 months since she had convinced Elder Maxson to spare Danse’s life. 4 months since her hopes for returning to the task of motherhood had been dashed. Since then, she’d wandered, meeting new allies, slaying enemies, and helping the settlers of the Commonwealth build a better life. 

And now Gwen found herself here, back on the Prydwen. She couldn’t help being drawn back here, they had the neatest toys. Toys that she could use to aid her friends and allies below. And the best historical records she’d found anywhere so far. She had so much to catch up on. 

Gwen laid in the bed in her new quarters. Danse’s former quarters and former bed, she remembered. She tried to sleep, but found herself staring at the bare, utilitarian ceiling in the ambient light. Her mind kept racing over everything that had happened since she’d stepped out of that vault. Even after all this time, she was still struggling to understand and accept all the changes in the world. She’d come to see her life as split into two. A dichotomy. She came to understand and accept that who she was before was dead. That’s how she had to view it. The person from before the war, before the bombs, even from before Shawn was taken, was detached from her present self. She could look on her life before as a movie to watch and play. Sometimes those memories came unbidden. But they came less often, and had started to fade. She began to view them as a past life, and not really a part of her current life. Her mind was now trying to process the distance between the two. Trying to understand where the overlaps still existed. Trying to reconcile the past to the present.

With a sigh, Gwen sat up in the bed. ‘This is useless’ she thought. ‘I’m going to drive myself crazy’. She listened to the sounds of the slumbering giant around her. The Prydwen was in night mode. Lights dimmed, generators humming quietly, and a few knocks and bangs here and there. Gone were the sound of footfalls and voices of the bustling vessel’s usual daytime din. It’s passengers slumbered peacefully now, or quietly went about their work. But above the ambient noise of the Prydwen, she heard a rumble. Even though she’d spent less than a year in this new world, her ears had become quickly accustomed to the sounds of danger around her. This was not one of those sounds. This was the sound of thunder; A radstorm. 

Rising from her cot, Gwen threw on some clothes and a pair of boots. After a moments hesitation, she strapped her favorite Laser Pistol to her thigh. She clanked open her quarters door and made for the ladder a few paces in front of her. She climbed the ladder and made her way to the observation deck. She paused before entering the room. Usually this was Elder Maxson’s domain. And just as you wouldn’t just go strolling into a bear den without making sure it’s all clear, likewise with Elder Maxson’s domain. The only light in the room was the gloomy glow of the Prydwen’s running lights, and intermittent flashes of green tinted light coming from the radstorm. She slowed her breathing to listen for any telltale signs of occupancy. Hearing none, she strode forward, heading straight to the railing against the windows at the far side of the room.

Gwen put her hands on the rail and looked out at the storm. So similar, but so different from the time before. And then, unbidden, a memory flashed through her. So visceral and real she could feel it, smell it, and taste it. She and Nate, a stormy afternoon, a bottle of wine, warm hands, soft lips and nipping teeth, giggles and sighs. She shook her head and brought one hand up and scrubbed it over her face, dislodging the memory. She sighed, and leaned over with her elbows on the railing and stared morosely at the destructive beauty of the radstorm. 

 

Arthur Maxson coveted his solitude. He didn’t get it often, and there were only so many places he could hide on this floating monstrosity. He had discovered early on that the dark observation deck at night was his best chance for some peace and quiet. He wouldn’t be found so easily by any over eager squire or scribe. Kells knew where he was, and would direct messengers in his direction only if it was a dire situation. 

He took a sip of whiskey, enjoying the light burning on his lips. He held the liquid on his tongue, tasting the spicy amber of it before swallowing it down and felt the burn fading as it rolled down his throat. He paused and tilted his head to better hear the footsteps on the ladder. He held himself still as he heard them approach the observation deck and pause. Sitting to the side of the room, he couldn’t see who it was, but then, neither could they see him. That was soon resolved as the person moved forward into the room. Even in the dark he could tell it was his new Sentinel. She quickly moved to the far end of the room without first scanning it. She had not seen him sitting there. Good. It gave him the advantage of observing her. 

She had appeared on the Prydwen yesterday and provided him with a debrief of her activities over the past 4 months. While she had done things differently than he would have liked, she got them done quickly and efficiently. She had a dozen settlements up and running. She led a citizen’s militia called The Minutemen to help those settlements prosper. She’d cleared out ghouls, muties, and synths. Although he wasn’t too pleased with her choice to ally with a few of these deplorables, given the amount of good work she’d accomplished he could overlook that. For now. He couldn’t deny her strength, resiliency, and leadership skills made her formidably competent. He had yet to see another person who gave him this much hope for the future of the Commonwealth. 

He watched as she scrubbed at her face with her hand, gave a deep sigh and leaned forward, elbows on the rail. ‘Hard time sleeping Sentinel?’ he rumbled softly in her direction. In the dark, he allowed himself a smug half smile as he watched her straighten with a start and whirl to face his direction. To her credit, he saw her hand stretch to her holstered weapon before realizing she wasn’t in danger. Good, she had the defensive reflexes of a good warrior. Although her situational awareness was lacking. An exemplary warrior would have known he was there the moment they stepped foot in the room. 

He watched as she registered who had spoken. “My apologies Elder. I didn’t realize you were here.” she said as she pushed away from the railing and made to move towards the door. 

“No need to rush out on my account Sentinel.” he replied, rising from his seat. She paused as he poured whiskey into another glass from the table near the chair where he'd been sitting. Turning and walking towards her, he offered her the glass. “Tends to help you sleep a bit easier” he said.

Gwen accepted the glass with a nod, “Thank you Elder. Turns out 200 years of forced cryogenic hibernation messes with a person’s metabolism and sleep patterns. It seems my brain has decided it doesn’t want to sleep a whole lot lately”. 

“That’s understandable, Sentinel. How are you adapting to the changes?” he asked her as he mimicked her earlier pose, leaning his elbows on the rail and gazing out at the radstorm, glass of whiskey in hand. 

She briefly hesitated, took a drink from her glass and then followed suit. She paused for a moment to savor the sweet sting of the whiskey in her mouth before answering. She had nothing to lose by being honest, and she respected and trusted the Elder. “it’s…odd. The big things I get and have adapted to. Things like no infrastructure for electricity and water, no cars, no grocery stores and shopping malls or movie theaters. But it’s the little things that keep popping up and reminding me that it’ll take more than 10 months to truly accept all this. Little things that I realize now I took for granted. This storm, for example. it’s so similar to a thunderstorm from before. The concept is the same, but there are subtle differences. The thunderstorms I remember were all blues and grays and sometimes purples, not this green and yellow. You could be out in the storm without worrying about how sick you were going to get from radiation. Storms had so many different moods. They could be gentle and warm, like a comfortable blanket. Or they could be hard and loud. If it was gentle and warm, I’d often go outside barefoot to feel the rain on my skin and splash in puddles.” She smiled. “Even as an adult I still did it. It was one of those things that made you happy to be alive.” 

Maxson watched Gwen out of the corner of his eye as she spoke. He saw her wistfulness and her sadness as she stared out the window. He could tell she was struggling. This wouldn’t do. He needed his Sentinel to be in top shape and on point. Maybe talking about it would help her get it out of her system easier. ‘You know’, he said as she quieted, ‘I don’t think we realized that your value lies outside of the field as well. You have a wealth of Pre-War knowledge we have yet to take advantage of. Starting tomorrow, I'd like you to work with Proctor Quinlan on his research. Review some of the work he’s done and fill in gaps where you can. We may be able to increase the pace of our progress and understanding with your knowledge.”

Gwen pursed her lips and said “I hadn’t thought of that, Elder. I’ll talk to Quinlan in the morning." She paused for a moment and said "Will I still be able to go into the field? I would like to keep working with the Minutemen and the Settlements.”

Maxson straightened and said ‘Of course. I promoted you to Sentinel because I trust your judgement. I am sure you will balance your duties appropriately to ensure you are meeting all expectations.” He turned to leave the room, remembering the briefings on his desk that needed his attention. “Good night Sentinel” he tossed over his shoulder as he left the room. 

Gwen stayed where she was, thinking over this new task and sipping on the whiskey. She was anxious. This could bring up a lot of painful memories for her. But then again, it’d be an outlet to resolve this duality within her. Maybe, like a wound, getting the infection out would help it heal. It was worth a try.

Gwen mused on her interaction with the Elder. It was certainly curious. She knew him to be hard, demanding, and powerful. She didn’t agree with all his views, but she respected the hell out of him for his strength and leadership. She wasn’t afraid of him, as it seemed most everyone else in the Brotherhood was. After all, she’d faced a lot worse than being in the presence of such a domineering man. "And, I AM more than 200 years older than him", she remembered with a sly smile. Their interactions until now had been professional and respectful. But this seemed a bit more personal somehow. 

She was giving herself a headache with all this thinking and decided he must have had enough whiskey to make him a bit more relaxed. There was nothing more to it than that, and she fully expected their next interaction to be status quo.

Gwen glanced at her empty glass and stood. Well, the Elder got that one right, she was now feeling the pull of sleep. She walked out of the room, setting her glass down on a small table as she left and reached for the ladder rungs. She was half asleep as she reached the door to her quarters and fully asleep before her head hit the pillow. Her dreams were full of gentle rain, green grass, deep thundery rumbles, and strangely, a certain pair of intense blue eyes. 

In his own quarters, Maxson finished reviewing his briefs and scrubbed a hand over his face. He downed his last sip of whiskey and stood. He moved toward the bed, removing his coat and uniform as he went and lay down. In the brief moment between waking and sleeping, a vision of a wistful face with a sad smile drifted into his thoughts.


	2. The Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a seemingly never ending trip to the Commonwealth on back to back missions, Gwen returns to the Prydwen. She and Arthur have developed an easy friendship based on common duty, but they are starting to realize their interest in each other becoming...more.

With a clank, Gwen entered her quarters and tossed her bag on the desk. She was bone tired. She'd been up for 72 hours with a few cat naps here and there. First a kidnapping to handle at Finch Farms, then some ghouls to clear out at a salvage yard. Throw in some Synths at Boston Common and the Mutant problem at Bunker Hill and it all added up to one very tired Sentinel. She liked it this way. This was the type of exhaustion that would lead to peaceful, dreamless sleep. Although she hated the bare metal and coldness of the Prydwen, it afforded her the opportunity to sleep without having to keep her ears half open for danger.

She turned back and shut her door, then toed her boots off on her way to the bed in the corner. First her left boot, then a step and then her right boot. She had already removed her combat armor and various weapons as the vertibird made it's ascent. On her last few steps to her bed, she unzipped her uniform and pulled her arms from the smelly, musty cloth as she pulled it down off her waist and to her thighs. She sat on the bed and pulled it off her legs and let it fall in a heap on the floor, laying down in the bed in her her boyshorts and cami. She barely had energy to tuck her legs in bed and pull a blanket over herself before she was unconscious.

Gwen woke with a start. She had no idea how long she'd been asleep, nor what had awoken her. There was a hollow, metallic knocking on her door and Gwen realized someone was out there waiting for her to answer. She rolled slowly out of bed and swiped at the drool on her cheek with her fist as she padded to the door. Her eyes were still blurry as she opened it to see a cherub faced little squire standing before her. The girl looked nervous and timid. The grumpy greeting that had been on Gwen's lips, intended for whoever had decided to disturb her much needed sleep, died as she looked at the girl. She had a soft spot for the squires. When she looked at them, she saw in their faces some of what she had missed by having Shawn taken from her. She felt her expression soften as she said 'Yes Squire?'

'Um, Sentinel Ma'am. Proctor Quinlan asked me to inform you he has some new research he'd like you to look at.' the girl said.

'What day and time is it Squire?' Gwen inquired. 'It's Wednesday and it's 0700 Ma'am.' the squire replied.

'Thank you Squire. Inform Proctor Quinlan I'll be to see him in the records room this afternoon. Dismissed.' Gwen watched as the squire turned and all but ran down the corridor to relay her message. They were so eager to please. And they held the older member's of the Brotherhood in awe. They respected the scribes and Proctors, hero worshiped the Paladins, and all but treated herself, Lancer Captain Kells, and Elder Maxson as gods.

With a deep sigh, Gwen closed the door and turned to gather her things for a shower. That was step one, then some breakfast. After that she'd work on her reports before heading to the record's room. Just as she was closing her door behind her as she stepped from her quarters into the corridor, Elder Maxson came walking from the direction of the mess hall. "Sentinel, glad to see you back in one piece. I take it you are well rested?' he inquired as he came to a stop near her.

'Yes, sir. A good 12 hours of rest. Just headed to get cleaned up and get some chow before working on my reports.' Gwen replied. She felt very self conscious, knowing that she reeked of 3 days of sweat and whatever else she'd gotten on her during her missions. She was eager to be on her way, though she chided herself for being so aware of her smell around the Elder. She certainly didn't care around anyone else, and she was sure the Elder didn't notice or didn't care. But, still.

Just then, Lancer Captain Kells, Elder Maxson's second in command, exited his quarters and made a beeline for Maxson. 'Sir, there's a new transmission from the West Coast come in for you to review' he directed towards the leader. 'Sentinel, good to have you aboard' he said as he nodded in Gwen's direction.

'Thanks, Captain. I'll be on my way so you two can get to that message.' Saved by Kells. She owed him a whiskey later, even if he didn't know why.

After she was showered and dressed in a clean uniform, she headed for the Mess Hall. Her stomach rumbled as she realized just how hungry she was. She grabbed her chow and sat at a table by herself to eat. At the next table over, she could see three squires with their heads close together, whispering and glancing in her direction. This was a normal occurrence for her, but she still couldn't get used to it. She knew stories had gotten over exaggerated and passed around about her adventures. The squires held her in awe and would often become fidgety and shy around her. Sometimes they even took a few tries to squeak out whatever message they had been sent to give her. So she was a bit surprised when one of the three boys stood up and walked in her direction. This was new. 'Excuse me, Sentinel, Ma'am. But I was wondering, is it true you are from before the war? That you were in a vault all these years?' he asked her. She had to give him credit. His voice was firm, none of the wavering and mumbling that often accompanied a squire's inquiries in her direction. He was bold, indeed.

'What's your name, squire?' She asked.

'Micah Krees, Ma'am.' he replied.

'Well, Squire Krees, yes. I am from before the war. When the bombs fell, I rushed into a vault where I was placed in a cryogenic hibernation for the last 200 years.' she said loud enough for his fellow squires to hear. Their eyes widened as they looked at her. She laughed, soft and bright. 'I can see you probably have a lot of questions for me. I have a few moments if you'd like to come sit with me and chat. I'll answer what I can.' she told them.

 

Maxson needed to have a word with Knight Captain Cade, his medical officer. He was concerned about a particularly nasty injury one of the Paladins had received and wanted to check on the woman's condition. As he entered the mess hall on his way to the sick bay, he paused as his eye caught view of his Sentinel sitting with her back to him and surrounded by four or five young squires. Their faces were all rapt attention and adoration as they gazed at her with big eyes. She was talking to them in a lively and animated manner, moving her hands as she spoke. There was something about this tableau that struck him as rather homey. For a brief moment he could see her, not sitting in the mess hall of the Prydwen, but at a table in a cozy home, telling her brood of children about her adventures. His stomach twisted as he realized he wanted them to be his children. That was odd, he never thought about having children. And had certainly never even entertained the notion of any woman, much less his Sentinel, being the mother of his children. He frowned as he dismissed the idea as an idle notion brought on by the scene before him and his knowledge that she had already been a mother once.

It was at this moment that the Sentinel stood and said to the children gathered round her 'Alright squires. I need to get to work and so do you. I'm sure we'll find time to answer some more of your questions.'

'Thank you Ma'am!' exclaimed one particular squire rather happily as those around him murmured their thanks as well. They all rose and headed off in different directions to report for duty.

As for Gwen, she started to walk to her quarters and saw Elder Maxson watching her as he leaned against a support with his arms crossed and a curious look on his face. 'Story time?' he asked with raised eyebrows as she approached him.

She stopped and chuckled. 'They are certainly inquisitive little things. Of course, I remember being curious at that age, too. And they do enjoy hearing about my life before the war. I never thought something as mundane as doing laundry would be a source of amusement!' She replied.

'How _did_ you do laundry?' Maxson asked with a lopsided smile.

Gwen gave him a grin and said 'I didn't. My husband did. And he did it with machines that washed and dried the clothes. And then our Mr. Handy would fold them and put them away. Much easier than the washing by hand and line drying we use now.' She said.

Maxson gave a chuckle and said 'I remember being a squire and being just as eager for attention from the grown ups. Especially Sara. I wonder if I got that starry eyed when she talked, too.' he said with a wistful sigh.

Gwen rested her hand on his arm briefly and said 'I sometimes wish I could get back the naivety of childhood.'. Her tone became playful as she said 'But then, who would write those reports sitting on my desk?'. She sighed and, removing her hand from Maxson's arm, walked towards her quarters to start tackling said reports. Maxson stayed where he was for a moment, realizing he could still feel the warmth of her hand on his arm. He brushed it aside to thing about later and pushed away from the column, renewing his quest to seek out Cade for information.


	3. CheckMate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for someone to make the first move, and a game of Chess seems to be a good place to start.

'Captain, how are our recruiting numbers looking?' Maxson asked. 

Kells looked from his briefing report. 'Well, we continue to see a rise in recruitment. It's leveled off a bit since the increase we had after the Institute was destroyed. But recruitment is still at record levels, thanks to our new Sentinel.' Kells said, finishing with a smile in Gwen's direction. 

The trio of leaders were seated around the table in Maxson's room, going through their routine briefing. 

Gwen frowned. 'I haven't seen that big of an increase in squires and initiates running around though. What's the retention rate?' she directed her question to Kells. 

'Well, about 20% are eliminated right away for not meeting criteria. Another 25 to 30% washout within the first few months for performance, fitness criteria, mental issues, or just plain decide it's not what they were looking for after all. Our retention rate has increased slightly, but the actual number of recruits who make it through the training process is still small compared to the number we start with." Kells replied. 

Gwen furrowed her brow. 'What happens with those who wash out? Where do they go?' she asked. 

Maxson sat forward and said 'My guess would be where they came from. We don't really keep track of them unless we consider them to be a liability for us in the future.' He paused, then asked 'Why the sudden interest in recruits, Sentinel?'

'Well, I was thinking about the Minutemen. We could always use more support in the militia, and our standards aren't as rigorous as the Brotherhoods. Could we encourage some of them to seek that direction? Not all of them, of course, but some that would still be fit for the work the Minutemen do." She asked. 

Maxson sat back in his chair with his arms crossed as he pondered her idea. 'So long as it's not pulling from the numbers for the Brotherhood, I don't see where that would be a problem. Kells, what do you think?' 

'Well, would it be seen by the High Elder as a conflict of interest for the Sentinel?' He asked. 

'I would hope not.' Gwen replied. 'That's how it was done before the war. You had the federal military and the local military that worked under the authority of the state. The local military, we called them National Guard, handled stuff at the local level, pretty much what the Minutemen do now. Help keep settlers safe, clear out and set up settlements. They are better suited to respond quickly to citizen needs. It would free up the Brotherhood for larger projects." she said. "Besides, I can place Garvey in charge of recruitment so I would be out of the middle.'

Maxson narrowed his eyes in thought. In addition to his already permanent scowl, thanks to the scar on his face, the action had the result of making him look angry. Before Gwen had gotten to know him, she would have looked at him now and assumed he was pissed she'd made the suggestion. But after months of working together with the Elder, she knew that this wasn't an intentional look. Rather, the scar he carried on his face puckered and pulled at his cheek in a painful way. Over time, Maxson had learned to keep his face still, a tactic that resulted in him looking like he was constantly pissed off. Gwen had caught his slight wince when, in the course of their conversations and briefings, he'd laughed or smiled. She knew that it was a painful cost for him, and it made her appreciate his smile more fully when it came. 

'It's not a bad idea. Actually, if it works well, it should be replicated in other areas of the Commonwealth. I'll speak to the High Elder about it.' He finally said. 'Alright, that concludes the briefing. Now, anyone up for a few rounds of Poker?' he asked. 

'Not for me. I have some work to do before tomorrow and need to get a start on it. Plus, I'm still trying to recover from my losses last week.' Kells said as he stood. 'Good night Elder. Sentinel.' He said as he left, closing the door to Maxson's quarters behind him. 

This had become their habit. Maxson and Kells had developed a companionable relationship over the years. As the Leader and his right hand man had to maintain their professionalism in front of the crew and troops, they didn't have many opportunities to share in companionship. When Gwen was promoted to Sentinel, they started inviting her to their briefings, and within a few weeks, to their regular card games. Gwen existed on the edge between the enlisted troops and the leaders, and as such could move back and forth between the two easily. She'd taken Kells and Maxson up on their offer and often spent a few nights a week playing cards with them both, or chess with one or the other. Over time, she'd gotten to know both men. She had developed an easy affinity with Kells. He reminded her a lot of her own father. Stern and austere in public, but amiable and gentle in private. He even told horrible jokes like her father had. 

Arthur was different. It took longer for him to relax his guard around her. In fact, the first time Kells couldn't join them for a Poker game, Maxson had been more than hesitant when Gwen had suggested a board game for the two of them instead. Of course, that hesitation disappeared when she suggested chess. She knew Arthur was a master at strategy and she had used this knowledge to appeal to him. The wariness in his eyes had been replaced by a spark of anticipation. Of course, it hadn't taken him long to realize that Gwen didn't pose much of a challenge to him, but he found over time that he started making little mistakes to allow her to get an advantage. This prolonged their game, and therefore their time together. He told himself he was doing it to help her grow in her game strategy, but a part of him knew that he relished his time in her company, too. 

Gwen looked at Arthur. 'Chess?' she asked with raised eyebrows. 

Arthur gave a nod and said 'You set it up, I'll grab some whiskey'. 

A few hours later, they were three quarters of the way through the whiskey bottle and on their 3rd game. Gwen sat forward, with her elbows on the table and her hands folded near her mouth. She was squinting at the board and pulling on her bottom lip with her thumb and forefinger, deep in thought. Maxson watched her through half closed eyes. He could see her mind working hard to plan her next move. He became mesmerized watching her tug at her lip over and over. Without preamble, the thought of running his tongue over her full lower lip and then tugging it with his teeth came to his mind and he felt heat shoot down through his core. He shifted in his seat to adjust the sudden pressure he felt on his groin and Gwen broke her gaze from the board to look at him with raised eye brows. 'Getting impatient? Good, that's my plan to make you screw up!' she said gleefully. She reached down to the board and moved her knight. 'Check!' she crowed.

Arthur glanced at the board and moved his queen to capture her knight. Gwen moved her bishop and captured his queen and then loudly proclaimed 'Checkmate!' 

Arthur could feel the shock on his face. He hadn't seen this coming at all! He stared at the board and replayed the moves in his head. He realized she had started making subtle moves about a dozen turns back that had put her into position to win, and he hadn't even noticed. He looked at Gwen as she grinned in triumph and then laughed as she said 'You should see the look on your face! You look like I just told you there's no Easter Bunny!'

'And now' she said, reaching out towards his king, 'this little bastard is all mine.' 

Arthur reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. 'Oh no you don't! I demand a rematch.' he growled. Gwen giggled and grabbed the chess piece with her other hand, at the same time twisting her wrist to break Arthur's hold. She jumped up from her seat, laughing. 

'Can't have a rematch if you don't have a King!' she said breathlessly and danced lithely out of his reach, headed towards the door. With a huff, Arthur stood and reached the door within a few strides to block her path. Gwen gasped in surprise. She didn't know he could move that quickly. She was suddenly aware of his strong, sleek body. His height put his chest right at eye level, and she admired the lines of his chiseled pecs and allowed her gaze to linger over the strength of his shoulders as she lifted her eyes to his. She saw that he was gazing at her lips, his eyes dark with desire. Her lips parted slightly as understanding came over her and she let out a small breath. His eyes met hers and whatever he saw there gave him the courage to act. 

He placed his hands on her waist and pulled her nearer and said 'I want to kiss you.' Gwen's eyes widened as she drew nearer to him and lifted her face in answer. He leaned his head towards hers as she brought her hands up and placed them on his firm chest. Their lips met and Gwen closed her eyes as she became awash with sensation. She felt light headed as she marveled at the gentle softness of his lips compared to the silky scratchiness of his beard. She felt a jolt of electricity race through her as his tongue traced her lower lip, and she felt heat and desire start to unfurl deep in her core as he tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth. He released her lip and deepened his kiss and Gwen parted her lips in response. His hand skimmed up her side and shoulder to cup her cheek. He pulled away from the kiss and ran his thumb over her lower lip. He placed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. 'I've been wanting to do that for a long time.' he said, softly.

Gwen took a deep breath. 'Me, too.' She admitted opening her eyes to look up at him. He opened his eyes to look into hers and let the left side of his mouth turn up in a smile. 

'Oh, really?' he said, letting out a barking laugh. 'Well then, I'm glad we got that out of the way.' He straightened up, still peering into her face. His hands were at her waist again, and hers on his biceps. Neither wanted to let go of the other. There was a comfort in this embrace. There was trust, and respect, and the rightness to their nearness. 'The question is', he said 'where do we go from here?'. 

Gwen bit the inside of her cheek and lowered her eyes as she thought. 'Well,' she said, looking back to his face, 'we're adults. I think we trust and respect each other enough to handle exploring a personal relationship while still being professional. On official Brotherhood business, you are Elder and I am Sentinel. I won't treat you any differently than I have, and I expect the same from you. In private, we can be Arthur and Gwen, and we can see where this goes. But, if it's not working out for either of us, we need to be honest and open so we can still salvage our professional relationship. What do you think? Can we keep work and private separate?' She asked him. 

He gave a deep sigh and let his gaze wander above her head. 'I think so.' he replied. 'It's going to require both of us to be open with each other, and that's a level of vulnerability I've not had with anyone in my adult life. But, I'm willing to try if you are. How about for now, we sit down and just, talk. I want to know more about you.' He said, looking back into her green eyes. She nodded her head and let him take her hand and lead her to the couch.

Later that evening, Kells was leaving his quarters to head for the Bridge. As he was opening his door, he saw Maxson's door open slowly, and Gwen peek her head out. She didn't see him standing in the shadowy doorway of his room, but looked down the corridor before stepping into it. As she emerged from Maxons's quarter's, he saw the Elder at the threshold as he took her hand in his and placed a kiss on the back of it. He watched as Gwen blushed and murmured something to Maxson before striding to her own quarters and entering. As soon as her door clanged shut, he heard Maxson's do the same. 

Kells smiled. 'So', he thought, 'they finally took the leap, eh?'. He'd seen how they looked at each other. He'd known Maxson a very long time, and could tell the younger man was atracted to the Sentinel almost from the moment she stepped on the ship. He had been purposely giving them time alone, hoping it would lead to more. He liked Maxson, and wanted him to find happiness. He'd have to keep watching this unfold and help them keep their secret as long as they could. He knew they'd both been through so much, and that they deserved each other.


End file.
